


That Precious Blue's Gonna Drag You Down

by hanbeone



Category: Korean Actor RPF, Super Junior
Genre: Fictional drugs, Inspired by Repo! the Genetic Opera, Joonkyu Shenanigans, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4703204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanbeone/pseuds/hanbeone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two people cross paths while robbing graves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> I shouldn't be staring another chapter fic but screw it, I can do what I want :DD The title may or may not make any sense. I haven't decided yet.

_Industrialization has, crippled the globe_  
_Nature failed as technology spread_  
_And in this wake, a market erected_  
_An entire city built on top of the dead_  
_And you can finance your bones and your kidneys_  
_For every market, a sub-market grows._  
_But best you be punctual with making your payments_  
_Lest it be you on the concrete below._  


_It's quick. It's clean. It's pure._  
_It could change your life, rest assured._  
_It's the 21st century cure,_  
_And it's my job to steal and rob GRAVES!_  
_-Graverobber_

 

* * *

 

 

Another night in another rundown, rat-ridden, crumbling graveyard and Kijoon is in his element. It is an oh-so-perfected routine of pushing open a concrete tomb to uncover a steadily decomposing body. Clothing and shriveled, leathery flesh cling to the bones in patches of grey, worms wriggle away from the sudden disturbance, the stench of death attacks his senses.

 

Kijoon lifts the corpse and dumps it beside the tomb, removes a syringe from his leather pouch, inserts it into the body’s nasal cavity, and draws out gloriously glowing Zydrate. He fills a little glass vial with the pure blue liquid then places it carefully inside his shoulder bag, picks up his pouch and walks away, leaving the decaying body on the ground.

 

With guards roaming around, looking for graverobber's to persecute during the night, precious time cannot be wasted in showing respect to the poor sods who have already passed their expiry date. It’s a dirty job, dealing in the submarket, but it’s all the man has got- damned to hell if he were to walk away from it all.

 

After a handful of vials of Zydrate are snug in Kijoon’s bag, he figures it’s time to leave before he gets caught. This is, after all, one of the larger cemeteries in the grungy city. He removes his gloves, stuffs them into a deep pocket of his hooded, plum-coloured trench coat, and stealthily weaves his way through numerous crumbling graves and smashed tombs.

 

Something distracts him from his goal of escape- another graverobber. Which is nothing out of the ordinary, but the _way_ that the graverobber is going about his business is unordinary. He appears to be either struggling with extracting the Zydrate or is simply taking his sweet ass time. In which case; he must have a death wish or is just plain idiotic. Kijoon marks the guy with all of the above.

 

Curious, Kijoon shifts silently closer to lean on a gravestone behind the male and settles himself to watch. He can spare a few minutes for entertainment’s sake.

 

The male fumbles with capping the vial, spilling some of the precious blue - Kijoon fights off the urge to mourn over such an unnecessary waste, finding it ironic that he is more concerned with a drug than the corpses he desecrates- and when he’s done he picks the body up, drops it back in the tomb and has the nerve to actually reseal it. His hands shaking all the while under leather gloves.

 

“You a user?” Kijoon's lips curve with amusement as the male jumps and whips around to stare at him like a child who has been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Lovely, expressive eyes opened wide.

 

“Huh?” The male clutches at his bag as if it were a lifeline. In some ways, Kijoon muses, it very well could be.

 

“A Z-addict. Are you one?”

 

The male shakes his head side to side, short chestnut hair flopping with the motion.

 

“You’re new then.” Kijoon states, doing a once-over, twice-over, of the other graverobber. His expression settles in a cross between something teasing and something intrigued for more. “And you’re doing a shit job from what I’ve just seen.”

 

The male squares himself in defense. “I’m doing just fine, thank you.” He raises a hand. “Now if you’ll please-”

 

Kijoon pushes away from the grave and glides closer to the novice, soaks up all the awkwardness in the male’s posture and clothes. Kijoon too had been like this once, awkward, unsure, and disturbed by his actions and reasoning. But he learned to ignore all of that eventually, allowing himself to slip flawlessly into where he stands tonight.

 

“Do you know guards are swarming just on the other side of the mausoleum, getting closer by the second?” Kijoon asks.

 

Exactly like Kijoon had been expecting, the male stammers to a screeching halt and fumbles with his bag. Kijoon lifts it from the muddy ground.

 

“Truly?” the other asks.

 

“Truly. Best be moving.” And as if to cement Kijoon’s advice, warning sirens cut through the nippy air, disturbing the silence of the dead.

 

Kijoon shoves the bag back into the other graverobber’s arms, then tugs on his sleeve, leading them out of the graveyard and into safety with a; “Quick! Follow me, kid!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long ass wait kiddies. this fic headed in a completely different direction than what i had originally been aiming for....oh the woes of writing

 

Kyuhyun is his name, Kijoon comes to discover. Though not from the young man himself.

 

He hears the name whispered in one of the more friendly bars in the city, hears words of fondness about a charming boy who likes to sing. But that information doesn't phase Kijoon, not until he is drawn from the last drops of his beer, by a person taking the mic on the tiny stage in the corner. The song washes over Kijoon in little rivulets, breaking through the scattered noises of the bar.

 

Kijoon turns and puts two and two together.

 

This kyuhyun, the one who name is whispered among admiring patrons, is the same person he’d met in the graveyard two nights ago. The novice he'd lead from the danger of being caught. It had only been a brief encounter, no names were exchanged, but the stirrings of an impression was left. 

 

Kyuhyun’s voice is full of raw emotion and unrefined talent as he sings. That much is undeniable. And It would be a shame for his talent to be taken advantage of, something way too common for aspiring singers in the city. kyuhyun wouldn't even see it coming.

 

That thought has kijoon turning back to the bartender and signalling for a top up on his beer. And as he nurses the drink, his ears are teased by a pleasant melody. It sounds out of place for a place like this, too gentle and heartfelt. But nobody seems to be complaining.

 

The next time kijoon is drawn from his thoughts is by the voice that had filled the bar with warmth for the last 15 minutes, only this time it's lower, comming from Kijoon’s side. 

 

He snaps his hand out, closing fingers around a wrist, right next to a smart bracelet, that is mid reach for a drink. 

 

“Are you even old enough for that?” he asks. 

 

“Of course i-” Kyuhyun breaks off, startled as he recognizes him, “it's you!”

 

“shh, you’ll draw attention.” Kijoon scowls at a few curious gazes being directed their way.

 

Kyuhyun pulls his wrist free from graverobber’s grip asking in a lower tone, “what...what are you doing here?” 

 

Kijoon raises his eyebrows with a pointed nod towards the drinks in front of them, which sends a flush over kyuhyun's cheeks.

 

“Right. Of course. The same reason as everybody else.”

 

Kijoon can’t help the amused curve of his lips while watching Kyuhyun lift his drink- a whiskey and pop mix- to his nose. He pauses to sniff before taking the straw between his lips for a calculated sip, a hand tugging at his shirt collar. The glass clinks against the counter in time with Kyuhyun’s sigh.

 

“So you heard all that?”

 

Nodding, Kijoon compliments him. “You are quite talented.”

 

“This is what I normally do,” Kyuhyun fiddles with his fingers on the rim of his glass. “Not, not that other thing. Just, sometimes it's not enough, you know?” 

 

Kijoon snorts at the other’s confession. “No need to justify your actions to me, kid. Do what you have to to get by, that's all that really matters.”

 

He doesn't expect for kyuhyun to smile, much less at him, a graverobber whose mood is sitting at the bottom of another empty glass. But Kyuhyun does, small and close lipped, but a smile nonetheless. And then he is turning that smile onto the bartender, along with a request.

 

“Another drink for my friend, please.” 

 

The bartender looks at kyuhyun, darts inquisitive eyes at kijoon, then back to kyuhyun who still is showing a friendly smile, before they nod, turning their back to fulfill the young man's request. 

 

Kijoon lets out a breath, uncomfortable with the situation. He aims a frown at Kyuhyun. “Look kid, you don’t want to be my friend.”

 

“I’m sure I can decide that for myself.” kyuhyun's jaw is set in determination, staring kijoon down until Kijoon is forced to look away from the awkwardness. 

 

The graverobber mentally groans at himself. Perfect. Just what he needs- some little punk trying to get close to him. There's a reason why people keep their distance, and this punk was seemingly oblivious to that reason. 

 

The bartender clanks another glass on the counter in front of kijoon, the same as kyuhyun's, and he swears that that is leer on their middle aged face. Its no surprise really, that people would begin sticking their noses in his business for associating with the young male next to him. Kijoon wrinkles his nose at their back, and thankfully, kyuhyun remains oblivious to the exchange. 

 

“My name is Ben,” he finds himself lying in answer to kyuhyun asking for his name. 

 

“Bull,” Kyuhyun pouts. Pouts. And there is definitely a pleasant alcoholic buzz going on in kijoons mind, because he dare thinks that the pout is cute. “But I will get the truth out of you soon, _ Ben.”  _ kyuhyun says, determined, once again lifting his glass to sip from.

 

“hmm,” kijoon grunts, “have it at.” He doesn't mean for it to be a challenge, but from the sparkle he catches in kyuhyun's eye, it is now. 

 

He focus his attention back on his whiskey, trying his best to tune out the chatter box on his right side. Sure it may be rude, but it's definitely the more desirable option in the graverobber’s books. Opening up to a punk kid is the last thing on his to do list. Actually that isn’t even on the list, to be quite honest. 

 

Kyuhyun would get the hint soon enough, and storm off in annoyance, leaving him in peace. And then kijoon would be free to continue chasing the bottoms of glasses in his own little ode to solitude, before heading out to sell some Z. 

 

“About the other night,” kyuhyun brings up hesitantly, after realizing that the graverobber hadn't been paying attention to him for several minutes now. “I need some pointers- where to sell.”

 

_ That  _ grabs the man's attention.

 

Kijoon hushes the younger with a sharp look, scolds him gently that this isn't the place for such talk. Too foolish, really. 

 

“But, I don't know where to go, I've carried it with me since.” 

 

Kijoon does another mental groan- novices. They are so clueless and naive, carelessly carrying illegal substances around with them. He leans in close to Kyuhyun's ear, demands, “Where?”

 

“I-in my bag, in the back room.” 

 

“Get it.” Kijoon orders. He quickly drains the remainder of the whiskey before standing. He straightens his jacket, patting down the front to his satisfaction, nods at Kyuhyun, then motions to the door. Kyuhyun nods back his understanding, quickly finishing his drink. 

 

With that done, Kijoon exits the noisy bar into a cool autumn breeze. He turns down the alleyway between the bar and another building, locating the back door. There, he waits propped against the wall for Kyuhyun to meet him.

 

“You're reckless.” Is the first thing kijoon says once kyuhyun wanders out of the bar, bag in hand. He snatches it from the shocked hands of the other, opens it up to find three vials of Zydrate snug inside. He closes the bag and hands it back. “Rule number one, get rid of z fast, don't keep it on you. You get caught that way.”

 

Kyuhyun ducks his head, face red, embarrassed. “I didn't know where to sell.” he admits. 

 

Kijoon clucks his tongue, almost pitying the boy. “Then I will show you.  Just...don't do anything stupid.”

 

The reaction in kyuhyun is transformative. He raises his head, a dorky grin in place as he lifts his hand to a salut.

 

“AYE! Aye! Captain Ben.” 

 

Kijoon twitches. This punk can't be serious. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a speedy update because I've just been accepted to college after two years of doing nothing and I'm in a good mood :DD

 

‘Zydrate Addicts Anonymous,’ the sign on the weathered door reads. They are standing in another alleyway, puddles on the ground, dumpsters lining the weathered brick walls. It smells of must and old garbage and Kyuhyun’s expression is scandalized.

 

“What?” Kijoon shrugs, as he pulls a Zydrate gun from Kyuhyun’s bag, getting everything prepared.

 

“It's not very moral, is it?” Kyuhyun wonders. And he's right to do so, it isn't.

 

Kijoon loads a vial of Zydrate into the Z-gun, ready for the first person who's starving for a fix. He takes a moment to check things over, before nodding to the door and giving Kyuhyun a response.

 

“How is giving people what they desire any less moral than robbing graves? Sanctioned murder? Even the whole of GeneCo?”

 

The words stump Kyuhyun, leave him with furrowed brows and an open mouth. Secretly, Kijoon is pleased at his ability to trump the younger.

The door creeks open a second later to reveal a group of people filing outside. The cue Kijoon had been waiting for.

 

“Watch and learn, kid.” he winks at Kyuhyun, who honestly looks like he's about to jump out of his skin as he notices the provocatively clad addicts perk up upon seeing them.

 

“Graverobber!” is the collective exclamations from eleven different people. And with a wave of the Zydrate gun, they flock around the graverobber, like eager, stray dogs, eyes on the blue prize.

 

“I’ve got enough for six,” Kijoon announces in a volume for everyone to hear, whilst the Z-gun is held above his head. A mix of excited chattering and groans follow, respectively for the people who have money and the ones who don’t. “So first come first serve, you know the rules.” He pauses, crooks a finger at kyuhyun, who is standing just beyond their circle, waits for Kyuhyun to come to his side, and adds, “Payment goes to him.”

 

He chuckles at the bulging of Kyuhyun’s eyes, the way his body goes all stiff and awkward. This little punk has a lot to learn indeed. Though all the eyes that instantly lap up Kyuhyun’s image, a few with poorly disclosed lust, unsettles Kijoon on some level.

 

Somebody wolf whistles, but Kijoon cuts it off with, “So who’s gonna be first?”

 

The movement is instantaneous, people slipping cash into Kyuhyun’s hands and in his pockets. The hands in his pockets startle him, and he is like a fish out of water. But it only lasts a few seconds until they are stepping in front of Kijoon.

 

A woman, one of his many regulars, is the first one to the bullet. Her hair is rainbow-streaked, outfit consisting of a black corset and cut off shorts. Kijoon chooses her thigh as the injection site.

 

“The gun goes somewhere against her anatomy,” he informs Kyuhyun. "Then you pull the trigger,” he pulls. “It sparks,” - the woman moans as her eyes roll back, hit with an instant high- “then she’s ready for surgery. Or whatever.”

 

Kyuhyun’s eyes are glued to her as she leans back into the arms of another, pure bliss written on her face. He blinks, and the graverobber is giving another addict a hit, having the same reaction. From his observations, he can tell that Zydrate brings great pleasure.

 

That point is also confirmed by a whisper in his ear, a proposition. Blushing nine shades of red, Kyuhyun steps back from the addict, shaking his head no.

 

Soon enough Kijoon is on the third and final vial of Zydrate, giving a shot to a broad guy who's had one too many facial reconstruction surgeries. he sinks to his knees as the high takes over, then Kijoon is turning back to his companion, finding him stuck in an awkward conversation.

 

“You’re so pretty, natural. You've yet to be under the knife. How old are you?”

 

“20.” Kyuhyun answers the older woman, albeit hesitantly.

 

“I had my first surgery when I was 15, been turning tricks ever since,” she pauses, regarding Kyuhyun's body thoughtfully, and laughs. “you’d be popular among rich men. Those pigs sure know how to tip! I could hook you up with a few.”

 

Kyuhyun seeks out Kijoon's help with the alarm visible in his eyes, and kijoon quickly takes pity on the poor guy.

 

“That’s really not his calling,” Kijoon interrupts her, placing what he hopes to be a comforting hand on Kyuhyun’s arm. He squeezes gently. But he regrets it as the woman's eyes light up with amusement.

 

“Ooh, this is juicy indeed!” she crows, “Graverobber has gone and found himself a boy toy. You make sure to treat this little angel good, yeah.”

 

Kijoon cringes at her choice of words, lip curling out of annoyance. “Listen, I will give you the last hit of Z for free if you just stop talking. Deal?”

 

“Deal.” She smiles as if she’d just received news of winning a lottery.

 

Letting his hand drop from Kyuhyun’s arm, Kijoon sees their deal through, letting out a sigh of relief as the woman is overcome by the drug. She leaves the males to themselves. Kyuhyun looks like he is either going to hightail it home- or have a mental break down. Or possibly both.

 

“Did I forget to mention how overwhelming they can be?” Kijoon rubs awkwardly at the back of his head, avoiding looking directly at Kyuhyun because he's afraid he might end up feeling guilty about bringing him.

 

Kyuhyun's chuckle is short lived, airy and exasperated, but he doesn't bother with a proper response. So Kijoon stuffs the zydrate gun safely inside Kyuhyun’s bag, hands it back over to him.

 

“Go home now, Kid. It’s probably past your bedtime by now.”

 

“Asshole,” Kyuhyun grumbles. He hasn't had a bedtime in years, thanks. But he checks the time on his smart bracelet nonetheless. His jaw slackens upon finding it to be just after midnight. His family will be getting worried, but he doesn't mention that to the graverobber, wanting to keep some semblance of pride. “Thank you for your help.”

 

Kijoon shrugs nonchalantly. “You didnt exactly leave me with much of a choice.” and okay so that was a lie, but if it makes kijoon feel better about his decision for giving into spending time with the little punk, then so be it.

 

Mostly everybody has left the alleyway by now. All except three people who are getting awfully close to having a public orgy that neither Kijoon nor Kyuhyun would like to witness, so they make a beeline for the street.

 

Before they turn their opposite ways, kijoon is stopped by Kyuhyun's hand holding the sleve of his trenchcoat.

 

Kijoon raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“Will you meet me at the cemetery near here tomorrow night?”

 

“No.” Kijoon blurts right away. The refusal turns Kyuhyun’s lips into a pout and Kijoon has an awful feeling about that kicked puppy look.

 

“Please graverobber Ben-Ben?”

 

Kijoon twitches for the nth time that night. And he resents that he can’t pinpoint the base feeling behind the twitch.

  
“We’ll see.” He tries again, and is relieved that Kyuhyun accepts that answer, pout disappearing. Then Kijoon wrenches his arm free and storms down the street, thoroughly annoyed with the world.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Kijoon purposely walks the scenic route to the designated cemetery, kicking himself all the while. He considers just bailing out of the meeting with the punk all together. he’d told Kyuhyun no in the first place, so it shouldn't matter if he actually shows up or not. But Kijoon has a wild streak of curiosity, something that is very hard to ignore, and Kyuhyun certainly makes him curious- loathed he is to admit that. 

 

So that is the reason why he finds himself wandering aimlessly down grungy city streets on a Sunday night, doing his best to stall the meeting as long as he can manage before he runs out of excuses to turn around a corner that does not lead to the cemetery.

 

He passes loiters on the streets. Some dolled up queerly, a mix of clothing from different periods, while others are barely dressed at all, mere rags hanging off their bodies. They drink and smoke, joke and argue, and some fight. Kijoon merely sidesteps them all, with the occasional nod when he comes across one of his customers. 

 

But too soon he finds himself standing in front of a black iron gate- the entrance to only one of a dozen cemeteries. He’s fiddling with the strap of his leather messenger bag, cold wind swirling leaves in a dance around him, strands of hair falling blowing out of place. It’s quiet inside the city of dead, presumably empty, and he wonders if perhaps Kyuhyun gave up on waiting and is already long gone. Maybe he should just turn around and go back to his normal routine where people stayed out of his business and in turn, he stayed out of theirs. Unless of course, the people were buyers searching him out. 

 

It's just how his life has been for a few good years. A well practised routine that has been working perfectly fine for Kijoon. Up until recently. 

 

Yes, it will be better if he just turns around now, head back to his routine. 

 

“Hey! I thought you stood me up.”

 

Kijoon startles when Kyuhyun is suddenly standing in front of him, gloved hands on the iron gate. Kijoon had totally missed his presence, wherever the punk had been hiding. He quickly recovers, a smirk plastered on his face.

 

“Can’t stand someone up when I never agreed to meet in the first place.”

 

“Well looks like you couldn’t resist.” Kyuhyun is rather cheeky, apparently. Figuratively and literally speaking. When he smiles, his cheeks appear very squishable. “Come on then. I’m getting cold.”

 

With measured steps Kijoon walks through the entrance, drawing up to Kyuhyun’s side. He looks over his outfit, coming up with just two words; simple and worn. 

 

Though obviously lacking money, Kyuhyun wears his clothes with an understated confidence, from the washed out, slim pants, to the oversized suede jacket with patchwork on the elbows, and underneath that, a plain black poet shirt. There’s gloves on his hands, fitted but well worn, and old combat boots protecting his feet. It’s a clash of different periods of fashion, but somehow Kyuhyun manages to not look ridiculous.

 

“Should’ve worn a hat.” Kijoon snipes at the younger. “Why are we here exactly?”

 

“I desperately need money, and you are way more efficient at this than me.”

 

“Are you asking me to help you? Because the answer is a firm no, kid.”

 

“How about a soft maybe?” the hope in Kyuhyun’s expression, it reminds Kijoon-  _ Hope Is the Thing With Feathers.  _ Kyuhyun is a song bird, pesky in his ways. “I can give you something in return.” the younger barters.

 

“Hmm? What could that possibly be?”

 

“My company,” Kyuhyun states, like it is the most obvious thing. But when the graverobber rolls his eyes, he quickly tacks on, “And free drinks on the weekends.”

 

Kijoon is hesitant in mulling it over, annoyed that he his seriously tempted to say yes to this punk, or more of a pesky songbird now that he's had that thought. Free drinks is also rather tempting. How hard will it be to keep Kyuhyun at a figurative arms length? It would definitely be a challenge indeed, and Kijoon does enjoy a good challenge. Maybe-

 

“Ben-Ben, please.”

 

“Well I was about to say yes, but now I’ve gone and changed my mind,” Kijoon huffs. “Don’t call me that. It makes me cringe.”

 

“Then tell me your real name, it's not fair that you know mine, but I not yours.”

 

“No.”

 

“Then I will call you ben-ben until you do.”

 

His answer gives Kijoon a genuine grin along with an exasperated little laugh. For the graverobber is quite certain that he has just met his match in stubbornness and witt. He finds himself agreeing, “fine I’ll help you. But no screwing around, okay?”

 

The way Kyuhyun beams is only an added bonus.

 

\--

 

They work side by side, achieving a much faster rate than what Kyuhyun would alone, but Kijoon does not miss the tremble in Kyuhyun's  hands as the male extracts Zydrate from some big-name corpse. 

 

“It’s okay,” Kijoon says, steadying Kyuhyun’s hands with his own. He knows what Kyuhyun must be feeling. How he's reacting inside. After all, this is all so new to the kid. “This...there’s nothing wrong with trying to survive. You do what you have to do to make it through the night. And it’s not like you’re going around murdering people, like plenty of other folk do.”

 

Kyuhyun bites his lip, pulling his hands from under Kijoon’s, allowing the graverobber to take over. “Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?”

 

“I sleep during the day,” kijoon retorts. It lightens the mood only marginally. But it's enough. 

 

A little hysterical laugh bubbles from Kyuhyun’s lips. “It’s fucked up though, how murder is perfectly legal. but dig up a dead guy just so you can live a little bit longer- you're risking execution.”

 

Kijoon nods his head, agreeing wholeheartedly. It’s just another law made to oppress the poor and vulnerable and give more power to the rich. He twists a cap onto the filled vial of Zydrate and shoves it inside his messenger bag. Two down, several more to go. 

 

“It’s still gross though. The smell, the look,” Kyuhyun continues, a grimace aimed at the corpse between them with a jaw hanging open in death’s smile. Kijoon catches a shiver runs through him due to how creepy the whole thing is.

 

“Sure is,” Kijoon claps Kyuhyun briefly on the shoulder before righting himself. “Give it enough time, and you won't even bat an eye.” 

 

“Wait!” Kyuhyun catches the hem of Kijoon’s purple trench coat, unsureness showing in his eyes and in the slight wrinkling between his eyebrows. “You don’t put them back?”

 

Kijoon snorts, looking down at him. “Tip, a surefire way of getting caught- take time to show respect to the dead, rich people whose graves you’ve upset. Seriously Kyuhyun, do you know where everyone else who isn’t loaded goes?”

 

Kyuhyun rises to his full height beside the graverobber, giving a solemn nod.

 

“Thrown into mass pits, or if they’re lucky, cremated. But it still feels wrong to just leave them out in the open.”

 

Kijoon stares at him grimly. “Do you  _ want _ to get caught then shot?”

 

“Well that's not exactly on my bucket list, Ben-Ben.”

 

Kijoon cringes at that bloody name again, but quickly pushes it aside. “Then leave the corpses once you have the Z in your hands. You dawdle, the risk of being caught rises drastically.”

 

Kyuhyun nods his head in understanding before bracing his body to help Kijoon push off the lid of another tomb. And kijoon thinks, that perhaps Kyuhyun is more than just some annoying punk kid. He clearly seems to have a good head on his shoulders. If only more people had thoughts like him, maybe life would be a better quality all around.

 

But this the real world. This is the life of underclass citizens. And the do-gooders always get hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I use the word 'queerly' in the original meaning. I'm part of the LGBTQ community and take no offence in this word being is used.  
> 2\. Yes, that thing about hope is an Emily Dickinson reference.  
> 3\. Writing this fiction on a tablet sucks balls, so if you find any mistakes, or find the flow to be awkard, or are confused about something, please just leave me a comment and i will see what i can do to straighten things up. Hah. Straighten. The pun, it hurts lolol.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May I present Kyuhyun's pov and a bit of his back story :DD

The morning after his second official Zydrate Excavation & Dealing with the Graverobber, sees Kyuhyun stumbling sleeply into the kitchen, where his family breakfast is in full swing. Or what little of breakfast there is to share among the nine of them. A small bowl of porridge and carefully rationed apple slices, and a cup of water for each. Slipping into a free seat, he graces his eight siblings with an ‘I’m not fully awake yet, try again in five minutes’ grunt.

 

His older sister, the oldest of the nine, laughs at him, places a plate of food under his nose, flicks his forehead. “Out late again?” She asks.

 

Kyuhyun ducks his head in confirmation, not bothering to go into detail about  _ why _ he’d been out late several times in the last week. He looks down at his breakfast, eyes bugging as he notices that his portion is larger than anyone else's. 

 

“Victoria...what?”

 

“You need more nutrition than us today.” She explains, and it’s followed by several cheerful agreements from around the table. Kyuhyun has a strange feeling that he’s missing something important. Victoria notices this, chastising lightly. “Oh, don’t tell me you forgot about your exam, Kyuhyunnie! What the hell?”

 

Exam- bingo! 

 

That’s what he’s been missing- one of the most important things that he’s been preparing for since the tender age of fifteen, when he first decided that he wants to be doctor that deals specifically with the lower class. He wants to be a doctor that actually helps poor people by giving them quality healthcare, not taking their only savings in process.

 

Of course he hasn’t forgotten about the entrance exam that will grant him an internship at one of the medical practices in the city. The days had just sort of slipped between his fingers in midst of all the excitement with the graverobber, and without warning, it’s suddenly Friday and he’s got the faces of his adopted siblings watching him curiously.

 

“Of course I didn’t forget about the single most important day in my life,” Kyuhyun lays it on them thick, lip jutted in a pout. “What do you guys take me for? I’d never let you down.” 

 

“I bet he has a lover!”

 

Kyuhyun, non so stealthily kicks Minho’s shin under the table. The teenager’s face crumples as he hisses a low, “Ow!”  

 

“Hardly,” Kyuhyun scoffs. “He won’t even tell me his real name.”

 

“Hah! So there is a guy!” Minho gleefully shouts, finger pointed at Kyuhyun in a show of triumph. But the boy is quickly deterred by one of their sisters reprimanding him about not teasing Kyuhyun today because he has a heavy weight sitting on his shoulders, and that they all need to support him. 

 

Then Briar starts whining, wanting out of the highchair, and Kyuhyun is very thankful for the toddler taking the attention long enough for Kyuhyun to start eating. He tries to savour his meal, he truly does. But Victoria is just so amazing with making good of what little ingredients they have, that Kyuhyun ends up scarfing it down. Also, he’s damn hungry.

 

The kitchen is rowdy around him, nothing unusual about that. It provides a comfortable familiarity as the full weight of the day's’ schedule sinks in, along with his brother’s teasing about his apparent unknown man- the graverobber. Oh, the things his family would say if they find out he's doing a lot more than just singing at the bar. It certainly wouldn’t be things of approval. And those thoughts lead his mind to thinking more and more about the man that he is determined to befriend…or whatever.  

 

The Graverobber is one part bite and two parts heart eyes. The man thinks he hides himself well, but Kyuhyun is wiser to see that it is just the graverobber’s projected image. Really, it’s only a matter of time until Kyuhyun is able to make the graverobber cave and giveaway his real name. Kyuhyun is confident in his abilities of charming people- it comes naturally. 

 

Tuning back into his surroundings, now finished his breakfast while his younger siblings are doing more playful bickering than actual eating, he scans the room.

 

“Where’s dad?”

 

“he left about a half hour to go make payment and preparations for the new windows.” Victoria answers. She is finally taking the time to feed herself, after dumping Briar on the floor where he has proceeded to hide under the table and make attempts at sweeping socks from unsuspecting feet. This new antic of his has been a source of cheap entertainment for the kids over the last week.

 

Kyuhyun's mood deflates a bit, nervous starting to get to him. It looks like his number 1 supporter isn't going to be around for good luck. One of his little sisters detects his depleting mood though, and stretches out her hand. Kyuhyun accepts Seulgi’s offer of a hair ribbon in lieu of their adoptive father’s wishes of good tidings. He ruffles her hair, much to the young teens chagrin.

 

“Thanks, half pint .” 

 

The exchange is met with several other items bestowed on Kyuhyun by his well wishing family. A bottle cap, a worn out broach, and a little painted stone. Beaming, Kyuhyun tucks the good luck tokens deep in his trouser pockets. They would remain their until the end of the day, after Kyuhyun has the finished the exam.

 

“We believe in you, brother!” Minho cheers once Kyuhyun is ready to leave. He's grinning , giving Kyuhyun a thumbs up and Kyuhyun can only chuckle good heartedly , waving goodbye to his family before stepping out into the world. 

 

He takes a deep breath that carries the scent of autumn leaves. And with the ribbon weaved around his left hand, he takes a step towards the future. His future.

 

* * *

 

Long hours later, Kyuhyun’s whole family gathers around the living room, attention on the little hologram projected from the smart bracelet around Kyuhyun’s wrist. It’s the announcement of his test results. Kyuhyun holds his breath as a recording plays, telling him that an internship is being set up for him at his local community health clinic, and that he will receive confirmation from the general practitioner on Sunday. 

 

A whoop comes from the older siblings, the younger ones following their lead even though they don't quite understand. And Kyuhyun is pulled into a tight hug by their father.

 

“You did good, son. You did good.” 

 

Victoria then calls for a mandatory celebration, herding nearly everyone into the kitchen, while leaving the two youngest kids to play with Kyuhyun. She cooks a feast. Well, what they would consider to be a feast- a dinner that is a little more filling than usual, and a vanilla cake. Kyuhyun discovers that their father had been anticipating the news, so while he was out that morning he allowed himself to splurge a little bit on special ingredients.

 

It chokes Kyuhyun up, all the love and support, and he feels a pang of guilt for getting involved with illegal activities. Though on his behalf, the money that he had earned from selling Zydrate had gone towards the cost of his internship application, along with the usual expenses of keeping food on the table that his weekend singing didn't quite cover. 

 

He excuses himself from the table, heads up to his room that is essentially an attic. There’s a little staircase on the second floor, beside the main one leading downstairs, and Kyuhyun quickly ascends the steps. 

 

Cracking his bedroom window open, he takes in gulps of the fresh air. One of Blind Mag's songs floats into his bedroom from the large blimp hovering a block away. Her voice, singing magnificent operas, is the most beautiful that Kyuhyun has ever heard. Her singing is what fuels his own passion for singing, and a second dream that he keeps secret. 

 

For kyuhyun yearns to headline a GeneCo musical. At least once. Just like Blind Mag. But some of the stories that he has heard from his nights at the bar, well...GeneCo isn’t exactly fair when it comes to anything. So instead of perusing this secret dream, Kyuhyun settles for singing at the bar on the weekends, whilst he works on making his first dream a living reality. Besides, a doctor is loads more beneficial to the people in his life.

 

Each member of their rag tag family is dependent on one another, and Kyuhyun sure as hell won't be the one to let any of them down. It is with that thought that he turns from the window to begin preparing for his night out. 

 

He’s to meet the graverobber at the bar to repay him for all the help, as unconventional as it might have been. After all, it is not everyday that somebody gives you tips on how to rob graves.

 

This shall be a night of celebration. And he will be walking home knowing the graverobber’s true identity. 

 

Kyuhyun opts for his favourite shirt; a loose, red one with ruffles and buttons. The shirt is the nicest thing he owns and he always receives the biggest tips when he wears it on stage. His older sister even occasionally borrows it  to wear as a dress. 

 

A knock on the bedroom door alerts Kyuhyun of his father's presence. The 50 something year old man smiles fondly, before stepping inside.

 

Kyuhyun eyes the man curiously as he reaches into his waistcoat pocket. The object he pulls out is a black quartz pendant hung on a leather cord. He offers it to Kyuhyun.

 

“This was your mother’s- birth mother.” he says. “Luce was meaning to give it you on your fourteenth, but then...then she died and I guess I forgot all about it until I recently found it tucked in her old jewelry box. It’s about time you keep it.” 

 

Kyuhyun accepts the necklace in a sort of daze from his father’s words. The pendant is a comfortable weight in his palm- small and translucent with smoothed over edges. 

 

“I fixed the clasp up for you. Go ahead and put it on.” His father urges.

 

Kyuhyun complies, fumbling with the clasp several times before he manages to properly secure it around his neck. The quartz pendant falls just below his collarbone, cool and surreal.

 

The only thing he has ever had of his biological parents is the little, framed photograph sitting on his dresser. It was a family portrait of three- a young, happy, couple with a four year old Kyuhyun cuddled between them. It had only been a few weeks after the portrait was taken, that Kyuhyun’s biological parents were robbed of life. 

 

The pendant that he wears now is the same one from in the photograph, wear it rested against his mother’s chest. To have it after so many years of having nothing of his birth parents’....it moves him to tears.

 

“Where did...how did you- I thought there wasn’t anything.”

 

“I know, I know.” his father gently pats Kyuhyun’s shoulder, trying to soothe him. “The necklace was in your bag of clothes, along with the picture, when you first arrived here. Luce put it away for safekeeping until you were older. ‘What if the little tike loses it while he’s out playing?’ She had said. But then between her death and trying to keep all you kids healthy, it slipped from my mind for several years, and I sincerely apologize.”

 

“I-it...dad, people forget things. It’s fine.” Kyuhyun sniffles. Only a few tears have rolled down his cheeks, and he is quite hoping to keep it that way. Tonight is a celebration for the future, not getting caught up in an unchangeable past. 

 

Kyuhyun’s father shakes his head shortly, amazed with his son. He is growing into such a marvelous young man.

 

“If only your parents could see you now. They would be so proud.”

 

“One of them is standing right in front me. But I can't speak for him about proudness.”

 

His father laughs, wrapping Kyuhyun in a warm hug. “He’s proud. Very proud of you indeed.”

 

After a brief moment he drops his arms to his sides. His expression quickly turns stern. “And I have faith that whatever you've been up to lately will come end now. I know you're smarter than to put yourself at risk, Kyuhyun.”

 

Kyuhyun gulps, a spark of panic lighting inside him.  _ He knows.  _ Kyuhyun doesn’t have any idea how, but his father knows about his late night activities. He’s about ready to start confessing his crimes and ask for forgiveness, but Victoria’s appearence spares him the humiliation.

 

She is standing on the threshold of Kyuhyun’s room, looking rather pleased. 

 

“So I was thinking,” she begins, taking a step inside. “I would like to come with you to the bar tonight. It has been too long since we went together.”

 

“Ah, yes!” Their father claps his hands in a show of ecstatic agreement. “You kids have been working so hard. Both of you could do with a night of fun, free of responsibilities.”

 

Kyuhyun is flooded with relief that his father is dropping the previous topic, and he nods in agreement with the other two. 

 

Surely graverobber wouldn’t mind his big sister tagging along. And even if he does, it’s not like Kyuhyun and Victoria will be by each other’s side the whole evening. Victoria has a tendency to flirt up a certain girl who works there, and although Kyuhyun finds it all particularly amusing, he can’t bare to witness their heart eyes for more than twenty minutes. Also, he can get a second opinion from her about the graverobber. 

 

No, going with Victoria won’t be a bother at all.

 

“Great! Come help me get ready!” Victoria exclaims as she all but drags Kyuhyun from the bedroom, leaving their father behind.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm aiming to have this done with 10 chapters, but sometimes things change soo...  
> Anyway here we have joonkyu being a little dramatic and angsty but i never said this was going to be sunshine and rain bows XD idk i hope this chap didnt fall flat at the end.

Collecting repayment is something that Kijoon has tried and tested over the years. He hates being in debt to another person, and he hates servicing others for free. He demands some type of payment - if not money, then usually food is acceptable- lest he wants to be treated as a walking door mat. So for him to sit in a bar and accept drinks from Kyuhyun is only natural. The act falls within Kijoon’s personal guidelines, so there really is no point in mulling over why he is spending even more of his time with a little punk kid. Although, Kyuhyun isn’t much of a punk at all. And his company can be considered as rather pleasant. Which doesn't bode well for anyone really.

 

Especially since Kyuhyun has seemed to take it upon himself to start introducing Kijoon to members of his family. Sure, his sister appears to be a wonderful person, much like Kyuhyun is, but after two sentences Kijoon was closing up in discomfort. Because what the hell was Kyuhyun playing at, introducing his loved ones when they aren’t even proper friends?

 

_ (Yet.  _ A little voice in the back of Kijoon’s mind supplies. He drowns the little voice with a mouth full of liquor.)

 

But thankfully Kyuhyun’s sister had caught on to Kijoon’s discomfort and had quickly excused herself to go chat up a couple of women seated at another table. And Kijoon had mused aloud, “you could learn some tips from her about social cews, kid”. Kyuhyun only rolled his eyes at him in answer, then turned to the bartender to explain that his drinks would be going to Kijoon tonight. And then Kyuhyun had disappeared into the staff room to prepare for his performance, leaving Kijoon to seek company in a glass, in a room full of obnoxious people. 

 

Though, currently, the aforementioned boy is standing on the rinky-dink stage, mic in hand, as he bops happily along to some up lifty song. Kyuhyun has a subtle way of demanding the attention of those around him, the graverobber observes. The golden voice draws people in, then his charming nature holds their attention. It starts out as quick glances, in the pause of conversations, that grow in frequency and longevity, until one's undivided attention is focused solely on Kyuhyun. Their previous engagements long forgotten. 

 

And that is where Kijoon finds himself, almost forgetful of the barely-there-alcohol in his glass, the male on stage soaking up the entirety of his attention. Kijoon notices that Kyuhyun’s outfit tonight must be the made up of the nicest pieces he has. And it suits him well too, adds a little flare to his usually plain self presentation. Kyuhyun wears red marvelously, perhaps in such a way that plenty of wealthy people would be jealous of. 

But screw what the wealthy think! This boy is far better than any of their bigot asses.

 

Kyuhyun catches his gaze right then. Or perhaps it just seems that way and he is merely just looking in Kijoon general direction. But it startles Kijoon nonetheless, his eyes stinging as he becomes aware that he hasn’t blinked in nearly a minute, and he draws his attention elsewhere. Like getting another drink.

 

“Nah, you’ve reached your limit,” the bartender says. Kijoon has the urge to reach across and show them a thing or two about limits, but he settles for just grumbling a sarcastic thanks and heads towards the exit.

 

Upon slipping into cool, refreshing air, Kijoon reaches into the deep pockets of his trench coat and pulls out a cigarette and a lighter. It’s rare that he partakes in the nasty habit, but he always carries a little supply with him incase he needs a quick way to wind down. Like right now, when he’s suddenly feeling exceptionally antsy. 

 

So he closes his lips around the cigarette, and uses a hand to block the wind while he lights the end, then leans against the brick wall of the bar as he fills his lungs with nicotine.

 

It’s is nearly ten minutes later that Kyuhyun finds him, still in much of the same position, only the graverobber has just lit his second cigarette.

 

“You’ll give yourself cancer, going on like that,” the younger male says. He’s disapproving and, for some reason, worried.

 

“I’ll get myself a pair of new lungs,” Kijoon smirks, before inhaling. He lets the smoke out in one slow exhale.

 

“And if it’s your throat?” Kyuhyun challenges.

 

“Darrrling, everything is replaceable these days.” 

 

Kyuhyun frowns at him- deep with knotted eyebrows. There is a brief moment where he looks unbelievably sad, and Kijoon almost feels guilty for causing that. But kyuhyun schools his expression and argues, “not for us.” 

 

And, well, Kijoon has no argument for that. What good would a transplant do when you have no money to cover it? None. Because you’d wind up dead. Ninety days delinquent gets you repo treatment- as GeneCo’s policy goes. 

 

Sighing, Kijoon stubs out his half smoked cigarette and drops it back into the depths of his coat pocket. Annoying boy with persuasive frowns who's inevitably right in this situation. He catches a hint of triumph on Kyuhyun’s expression and quickly stomps on it.

 

“Oh, come on. It’s not often that I smoke. No to need make a fuss, kid.” 

 

”’m’not fussing.” Kyuhyun mumbles, he shoves his hands into the pocket of his tight pants, causing his shoulders to hunch and the quartz pendant around his neck to swing slightly. “Just doin my duty.”

 

Kijoon arches a brow. “Duty?”

 

“As...as a friend. And I’m studying to become a doctor.”

 

Kijoon chooses to ignore the part about them being friends, instead focusing on the latter. He gives an impressed whistle that makes Kyuhyun crack a little smile. It’s such an innocent action, that Kijoon yearns to learn everything about the boy. A personality such as Kyuhyun’s is a rarity, an unpolished gem in a sea of coal. He’s a shining beacon amongst all the twistedness in the world. Kijoon can tell from the short amount of time he's spent in his company.  Though Kijoon also knows that it would be unwise to let the younger male get too close to him because things would be bound to turn sour. Hell, he has already begun to taint Kyuhyun with the whole grave robbing jig.

 

“Ben-Ben!” 

 

The shout of that irritating, fake name allows for Kijoon to shake from his thoughts, tune back into reality where Kyuhyun is looking at him in concern. 

 

“Are you alright? You seem off.”

 

“Don’t you worry about me,” kijoon responds curtly, as he shrugs his shoulders. 

 

“But I already do.” 

 

“You should save your worries from someone who cares, kid. Go back to your sister.”

 

Kyuhyun is taken aback by the sudden coldness audible in his tone. It even makes Kijoon himself jump a bit. Maybe...perhaps this will be it. Push Kyuhyun away before he gets hurt down the road. But the boy stubbornly pushes on. 

 

“What’s wrong with you, huh? One moment you're nice, and the next you’re acting like a jerk and trying to push me away.” 

 

“You!”  _ Me.  _ “You think I enjoy being continually pestered by an annoying little punk?”  _ I kinda do. _

 

“You keep coming to meet me!” Kyuhyun exlaims, exasperated. His hands are out of his pockets now, clenched in frustrated fists at his sides.

 

“Clearly, that’s poor judgement on my side.” It sounds more self depricating than having any real bite. Unfortunately, Kyuhyun latches onto it.

 

“Why?”

 

Kijoon shakes his head, “Why does it matter?”

 

“Because I care.”

 

“Bullshit! You’re just a nosy brat, looking for someone to entertain you from your sad, little, life.” Kijoon’s words are all lies, spewed from a twisted mouth. Push away, push away. “Go find somebody else to irritate, because i’ve had enough of this shit.”

 

“I like you, okay!” Kyuhyun’s features twist, like his face is at war with the emotions whirling hot under his flesh. “Is that so hard to fathom? That someone might genuinely like you?”

 

Kijoon freezes as the boy continues.

 

“I like you, and I thought, maybe, there was something between us- the way you teased, the way you looked at me. I thought you were great. A little rough maybe, but great. But now I see that I was just being a fool, thinking you would want to be anything more than just a guy who taught my how to deal Zydrate.” His face is unnaturally pale, a slight waver in his voice, and water glossing his brown eyes. “I didnt expect you to be so cruel… I’ll just leave now.”

 

Kyuhyun turns away, to head back inside the bar. Kijoon didn’t expect scaring him off to be this easy. He also didnt expect for Kyuhyun to be so honest with his feelings. It touches something inside of Kijoon that has been long suppressed. And he tries to resist. He tries so damn hard, but he wants it all. All of the male who has his back turned to him. 

 

In a sliver of a second where he gives into temptation, Kijoon is grabbing Kyuhyun by the shoulder and spinning him around, catching him in a kiss. It seems to be the last thing Kyuhyun expects, for his hands come up to push at the graverobber’s chest- perplexed expression. He looks about to run.

 

Kijoon pleads. “Don’t go.”

 

He waits for a response from the younger, another argument maybe. But it comes in the form of the rigidness seeping from Kyuhyun’s body. The way his eyes dart back in forth between Kijoons-searching. And then the hesistant, “what’s your real name?”

 

“Kijoon. Uhm Kijoon.”

 

And then he’s closing his eyes and pressing another kiss to Kyuhyun’s warm lips. His hands hold the younger steady, while kyuhyun’s fingers curl around the lapels of his trench coat. Their kiss is raw, tender, something shared after the spilling of pent up emotions. 

 

And when they break apart, with forheads pressed together, Kijoon sighs. “I’m no good for you, kid. I’m like a disease. I ruin everything I touch.” 

 

Kyuhyun takes a step back, slipping from Kijoon’s hold, though his hold remains tight on the front of Kijoon’s coat.

 

“You make my head spin with all these angles. And I might be an idiot, but I believe I’m able to handle myself.”

 

Kijoon grimaces. “As you wish.” 

 

Kyuhyun let’s go of him altogether now, straightening out his clothes, pushing the argument aside.

 

“I should go check in with Victoria before she raises a stink about my disappearance. You coming?”

 

“As you wish,” the graverobber repeats. 

 

And he follows the younger back inside, worrying about what he’s just started with the boy. 


End file.
